


Passing Ghosts

by basilisk_eyes



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:14:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28556706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basilisk_eyes/pseuds/basilisk_eyes
Summary: This was heavily inspired by this one fic I read a long time ago that I cannot remember the name or author of.
Relationships: Jango Fett & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 66





	Passing Ghosts

There is no battlefield for them.

There are battlefields, of course, stretched out over decades and spanning the farthest reaches of the galaxy– from Tatooine to Kamino to a planet so obscure it doesn’t even have a name– but they never have a battlefield.

Just metal platforms, slick with rain. The airways of Coruscant, thousands of feet above the solid ground (if there was solid ground on Coruscant). The corner of dimly lit cantinas where none– save but the truly desperate souls– ever stay. They chase each other from planet to planet, from one decade to the next– never more than a passing shadow or the faint smell of ozone just out of reach– across cantinas, across warzones, across alleyways and hyperlanes.

Perhaps in another life, they would have met as proper enemies, their metaphorical (or literal) swords clashing on the battlefield, dust billowing around them, faces streaked with blood and grime, epic orchestral compositions playing in the background.

The Mandalorians against the Jedi. A tale as old as time. In this case, one Mand’alor-turned-bounty-hunter against one Sith-killing Negotiator. Now nothing more than a ghost chasing the remnant of a bygone era.

But there they sit, in the corner of a cantina, sabacc cards scattered on the table between them, one with a shot of alarmingly neon... _something_ and the other with a bottle of tihaar. The conversation starts as it often does (did, perhaps, would be the more accurate term).

“I thought you were dead.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was heavily inspired by this one fic I read a long time ago that I cannot remember the name or author of.


End file.
